Well, dear readers, I was merrily typing away and then I made the terrible mistake of reading what I was writing. Quite suddenly, I found my finger on the delete button and before I could stop myself I deleted what I’d written. And so, I have started over, from scratch. I was itching to start over, hence starting over from scratch. One must always scratch if there is an itch. I now challenge each and every one of you dear readers to look at the word “itch” and tell me if that’s not one of the stupidest-looking words in the history of words. Someone took four random letters, threw them in the air, and when they landed there was “itch.” It’s such an ugly bit of business, and yet if you add a letter or two in front of it it becomes quite nice. For example if you put an “sw” in front of it, you get switch. Switch is a nice word. If you put a “b” in front of it you get bitch. I don’t know where this is going, but I’m bored of it already. My finger is now hovering over the delete key. Will he or won’t he? Only his hairdresser knows for sure. Speaking of his hairdresser, yesterday I got no relaxing done at all. I got a nice night’s sleep, got up around nine-thirty, and then headed over to Miss Linda Purl’s home environment to work. First we heard Mr. Ron Abel’s tune to the specialty song that Kirby Tepper did the lyric for (I did the opening verse’s lyric). Ron did a good job with it – I had a couple of little notes, which he implemented quickly. We then ran act two in its entirety. The length is fine, and the structure seems fine, too, with one exception, which Linda is thinking about. She’s now out of town until the end of the week, but she’ll be working on her own every day. I’ve finished smoothing out and rewriting the patter of act one, and I’ll do the same for act two today. After the rehearsal, I noticed one of my tires was practically flat, so I had to go get that fixed – it was a nail, and they were able to plug the hole and save the tire, so that was nice. After that, I came home, ate, wrote, worked at the piano, and then headed over to the theater for the performance.
We had quite a nice house, and the audience really enjoyed the play. It wasn’t quite up to the wonderful performance of the previous evening, but it was still very good. After the show, I came home, got some almonds, ate them, and then sat on the couch like so much fish. At no time during the day did I relax. I just want everyone to know that. And so, the question is, will I find time to relax today? Only his hairdresser knows for sure.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below before I delete this entire section.
This morning I hope to get some writing in, I hope to get some relaxing in, and then I shall be going to the matinee today (I’ve missed the past two matinees), where I’ll be meeting our very own Pogue. I have no idea if we’ll sup after the show, but even if we do, after the sup I shall be going directly home where I shall directly sit on the couch like so much fish and relax like a dead herring in the moonlight.
Tomorrow, I’m happy to say, I have no plans at all during the day, and then I’ll be supping with our very own Miss Tammy Minoff in the evening. Then I have to prepare for Tuesday’s musical theater workshop (MTW) – I don’t really have to prepare, as people will be singing their songs for me and I’ll be discussing the performances of said songs.
Holy moley on rye, once again I’m late getting these here notes up. That’s what happens when you delete what you’ve been writing. I haven’t really watched any DVDs (just Superman episodes, which I’m loving), so I think I can just put today’s notes out of their misery by posting them for all to see.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, relax and smell the roses or the coffee or the borscht, I must write, I must see a play, I must meet up with Pogue, and I must make some telephonic calls. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s free-for-all day, the day in which you dear readers get to make with the topics and we get to post about said topics. So, let’s have loads of lovely topics and loads of lovely posts about said topics. The big question remains – will he relax and smell the roses or the coffee or the borscht? Only his hairdresser knows for sure.